“Leave her!” Fletcher yells, “She’s sleeping.”
The back door slides open and the man himself steps out, not looking over to where I’m nestled in the blankets on the chair and goes to the railing around the decking. My eyes bug out at his lack of pants and shoes, the temperature right now is unforgiving and look at him, dressed in nothing but shorts and a hoodie. The thought of it makes me shiver.
I watch him, taking advantage over the fact that he hasn’t spotted me yet. My eyes follow the straight cut of his nose, the sharp angle of his jaw where a couple days stubble has started to grow. His dark hair is mused from sleep, one tendril falling down over his forehead like it always does.
He looks older with facial hair, it’s not a lot, just a dusting of course dark hair but it does something to his face, it darkens everything, makes him appear so much harsher, rougher. I don’t hate it but it doesn’t look like him.
He’s this clean cut athlete with the dimples and sparkle in his eyes.
“Good morning,” His deep rumble startles me from my perusal.
I clear my throat, “Oh, uh, good morning.”
“You think I didn’t realize you were there?” He smiles, those very dimples sinking into his cheeks.
“You didn’t say anything.”
His eyes follow the lines of my body where it’s tucked into the blanket, “Let’s get one thing clear, Peyton.” He closes the gap between us and leans in, effectively caging me in the chair with both his arms on either side of me, “no matter where we are, what we are doing, if you’re here, I’ll know. I don’t have to see you. It’s a feeling, like a part of my soul can recognize a part of yours. We’re inextricably linked and should that ever change then it’ll be because I’m dead. Do you understand?”
I nod.
“Good.”
And before I can think of anything else, before I can even take my next breath, his mouth is on mine, stealing away any lingering doubts.
Twenty-nine
“You riding with me?” Fletcher calls as I come out the cabin, bags in tow.
“Uh,” I freeze, looking between his truck and Colt’s Volvo. I figured he’d want to ride alone again. The last day and a half, after his words out on the deck, he hasn’t said more than two words to me. He hasn’t come to my room and I haven’t gone to his. It’s like we’re doing this dance of avoidance, skirting around the topic at hand.
Us.
Before I can answer, he’s striding towards me, plucking up my bags like they weigh nothing and slinging them over his shoulder. He’s already ditched his jacket into his truck and is only wearing a long sleeve black tee that shows off the curves of his muscles. I watch as he throws my bags into the back and then jumps into the cab, leaving me no room to argue.
Colt shrugs and climbs in the Volvo, waiting for Decker to make an appearance from the cabin.
When he does, he slings an arm over my shoulders and pulls me in for a hug, “You know I love you?” He says, his voice taking a turn for the serious which is not like him at all.
“Yes?”
“Okay, good,” he nods, “you know you can talk to me too, right? Like about anything.”
“What’s this about?” I look up at him, forgetting just how big he is. Much like Fletch, he’s built for playing, a titan on and off the field.
“I just worry about you,” he says, brows furrowing.
“I’m okay, Deck,” I pat his chest, “don’t worry about me.”
He purses his lips unconvinced, “Just talk to me, okay?”
I nod, “Of course.”
He presses a kiss to my cheek, “I’ll see you in a few days, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He jogs to the Volvo and with one look back at me, climbs in and then they’re off, snow spitting out from the back tires. The rumble of the truck is the only sound now and I hesitantly make my way to the cab, opening the door and pulling myself inside.
I feel Fletcher watching me, one arm casually slung over the wheel.
“Best get moving,” I mumble, “long drive.”
He grunts, shoves the car into drive and heads away from the cabin. I look in the mirror, watching the wooden building get smaller the further away we get.
Everything changed and part of me thinks that everything that happened within those walls is there to stay.
We’ve been driving an hour when Fletch reaches forward and almost angrily slams a finger on the button on the dash, cutting off the music.
“Talk to me.”
“Sorry?”
“Whatever it is going on inside your head, spit it out.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I snap back.
What is it with everyone and getting me to talk!
“The last two days, you’ve avoided me, why?”
“I can say the same for you Fletcher! What, you don’t think this works both ways?”
His head snaps back and then he turns back to the road, the silence sitting heavy and thick between us. I think he isn’t going to say anything else but then he glances my way, “I don’t know how to do this.”
“Do what?”
“This,” he gestures between us, “Us. I don’t know how.”
“There isn’t anything,” I say almost venomously like a child throwing a tantrum. “We slept together.”
“Is that all it was to you?” He balks, “sex?”
“Isn’t that what you want?” I hiss back.
“No!” He yells, slamming a hand on the wheel, “No it fucking isn’t. I don’t know how clearer I have to be, it’s always been you. Always you. I wouldn’t have said that if my only goal was to fuck you!”
“Then what, Fletch, first you’re hot, then you’re cold. Hiding away, not wanting to tell anyone about us, what we did. Do you even understand how that makes me feel?”
“They won’t understand,” he mumbles, almost to himself.
“Understand what?” I pry.
“You’re Tyler’s girl.” He growls, his hands gripping the wheel so tight his skin turns white, “You’re his. You’ll always be his. He might not be around anymore but you are and were his. What are people going to think if they know I’m fucking my dead brothers girlfriend?”
Bile rises in my throat as my stomach churns, his words sinking in, “I’m not his.”
“Yes you are,” he scoffs.
“Tyler’s dead, Fletcher.”
“I know that!”
“Then how can I belong to him? Does that mean I could never move on because I’d be betraying him?”
“No, it’s not like that,” Fletcher sighs, “It’s because it’s me. I should know better.”
“So what do you want, Fletcher? You want to stop?”
“No!”
“Then what?” I shout.
“I can’t lose you,” he reaches over and grasps my hand, his eyes holding mine longer than what is really safe considering he’s driving but safety be damned, I can’t bring my gaze away from the pleading look in his eyes, the way he’s grasping my hand, like I’m a life line. “I need you, Peyton, I just…” he trails off, looking back to the road.
“What?”
“I just don’t want to tell anyone yet, not until I can figure out how to explain it to them. I lost my brother but I found you but if they don’t understand, if they hate me for it, I’ll lose them too and I can’t – I don’t think I’d survive that.”
I deflate, not with ease or relief but because I got it. I did. What would they think? I was with Tyler for nearly two years, to everyone else our relationship was perfect, there was marriage and babies in our future, no one knew I was planning on ending it, no one knew that I had feelings for someone else. That someone being the man sat in the drivers seat next to me. Of course it wasn’t going to be easy, how could it be? I wouldn’t say this was wrong, but we were crossing a line.
We had already crossed it, in so many ways that there was no way we could come back from it but I didn’t think hiding this
was the way forward.
The people around us, our friends, our family they deserved to know but I could hold it in for a little while whilst we figured it out. I could do that for him.
“We don’t have to tell anyone,” I say, looking out the window rather than at him so he couldn’t see the uncertainty on my face, “We can keep it between us until we figure it out.”
“Really?”
I suck in a breath, tears stinging my eyes, “You’re scared to lose them, I get it but I’m scared of losing you and if this is what you need then, fine. We’ll do it.”
His fingers squeeze mine but I still can’t look over to him.
There was a lot to figure out, if we were to continue whatever this is and I want, no need it to continue we had to come up with a way of keeping it a secret from those closest to us.
Whatever we decided, whatever we planned, I knew I couldn’t be without him.
He was a part of me, of who I am and now I had him I wondered how I’d gotten so far without him.
I loved him.
And that meant something, it meant everything.
I just had to make sure I didn’t lose myself. I’d only just started to find myself again after so long and whilst Fletcher would be everything to me I had to make sure this thing, this relationship – if you could call it that – wasn’t going to ruin me. I’d already been broken by one Dallas brother, not in the same way but broken nonetheless and this time round I wouldn’t just be broken, I would shatter, into a thousand different pieces and there would be no putting me back together again.
I could laugh at how suddenly complicated my life had become if I weren’t so terrified that we were walking a thin line that we couldn’t come back from.
Thirty
I don’t see Peyton at all over Christmas, it’s the day after boxing day and I’m literally itching to get my hands on her. Surprisingly, this Christmas was easier, there were no tears which was a surprise, ever since Ty passed, we could hardly get through a holiday without the grief. Decker and Colt spent boxing day over at my place and are still here, playing video games in my room whilst I head down to help mom with the clean up. It had been left from the boxing day antics, everyone too tired to get on with it last night.
“It’s nice to see that smile,” my mom comments as I pull the trash bag from the bin.
“Huh?”
She shrugs, “You’ve smiled a lot since you’ve been home, why is that, hmm?”
I force my lips into a flat line and glance up to mom, making her smile, “Don’t hide it from me, boy, I know when my son is happy.”
Happy?
It’s been a long time since I’ve been happy and I guess that’s what this was. Whilst I haven’t seen Peyton since I dropped her home after our trip to the cabin we have texted every day. We had plans to meet up later today when the guys head back home and I couldn’t wait. I planned to take her out, a date if you will but away from here where we had no chance of being caught.
It didn’t feel good, forcing this into the shadows but it’s what was best. It’s the only way the people around us didn’t get hurt.
“I guess I am happy,” I tell her honestly.
She sighs, her mouth pulling into a smile, “That’s all I want for you.”
“I know, mom.”
“Now go on,” she swats my chest, “I’ll do the rest, go spend your time with your friends.”
I kiss her on the cheek, take the trash out and then head back up, snatching the controller from Deck as he’d just lost the fight against Colt.
Most of the day is spent like that, gaming with the guys and I can’t help but notice the pressure on my chest has eased. Like a weight had been pressing on me but someone had lifted it off now and I could breathe. I knew it was her. She chased away the shadows, bringing only light into my life, if only it could be that simple for us.
At six the guys head home and I scramble to get ready. I quickly shower and then pull out a pair of dark jeans and my white button down. Peyton truly deserved more than I could give right now and I guess I was selfish for not letting that happen.
She was mine.
Once I’m dressed, I head down stairs, hoping to escape without seeing my parents but I have no such luck as I pass the kitchen and mom steps out.
“Hot date?” She smirks, eyeing my attire.
“Uh,” I swallow, I didn’t like lying, didn’t like hiding shit from my parents, “Something like that.”
There, that was a half truth. She didn’t need to know who it was.
“Well whoever she is,” mom pats my chest, “You thank her for me, she’s bought happiness back to my son which means she’s got to be someone special.”
Like you have no idea.
With a heavy sigh, I step out into the brisk air and jog to my truck. I was running late, something I didn’t do often and I didn’t want her to think I was standing her up.
I drive the short distance to Peyton’s house and then text her, letting her know I’m parked out front.
A flicker of movement at the house has me turning my head in that direction and what I see has my breath stopping, my heart pounding and my cock standing to attention.
She’s a fucking sight.
Her tight little body is dressed in a tight black dress, it molds to her shape like a second skin, the neckline scooping low, her breasts being pushed up, cresting to perfectly tempting moons and the hem falls to just above her knee.
But most shocking of all. She’s in a pair of heels. A pair of fuck me heels, high and strappy, making the muscles of her legs more defined. She has shapely, perfect legs anyway but in a pair of heels…goddamn!
Her long dark locks are pulled over one shoulder and her lips are stained a deep red. She looks like a damn angel right now.
I trip over myself getting out the car, trying to keep myself together as she advances, the clip of her heels matching the thump of my blood.
“You look,” I breathe, reaching out to touch her, “Really fucking beautiful.”
A shy smile curves her lips and it takes everything in me not to devour her here, right on this spot in front of her parents house with everyone watching.
“Get in,” I growl, “Before I do something that’ll get us arrested.”
A low chuckle and tempting look later, she climbs into the passenger seat of my truck and I have to readjust myself in my pants as I get a glimpse of her creamy thighs, the dress rising as she shifts around to get comfortable.
I whack the air in the car to ice cold and open my window, all but hanging out like a dog as we drive away from her house, towards a little steakhouse at the edge of town. It’s not out of Hillgrove but far enough away that it’s unlikely we will be seen.
“Jesus,” Peyton hisses, wrapping her arms around herself, “It’s freezing, Fletch!”
I glance over, seeing her shivering form in the seat and reluctantly do my window back up, switching back to warm on the air. The cold didn’t help the tent I’m sporting anyway and I had a feeling it would be like that for the rest of the evening if I was to spend it with her in that dress.
She begins to relax as the warm air swirls around the car and I reach out, now that we’re free of eyes and touch her thigh, my fingers barely making contact and yet the feel of her is like a brand on my soul.
“You really do look beautiful,” I tell her, grasping her hand and bringing it to my mouth to press a kiss to her knuckles.
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she sighs.
“I’d rather have it off,” I tell her honestly, “Along with that dress. You can leave the heels though.”
She throws her head back and laughs, “You like the heels?”
“Baby,” I deadpan, “I want to see you in nothing but the heels.”
Her lips part and breath hitches, “I’m sure that can be arranged.”
“Don’t tease,” I warn.
“Who said I was teasing? You know how big my house is, I’m sure it wouldn’t be hard to
sneak you in.”
I chuckle, “We’ll see.”
“Well I mean,” she shrugs, “If you don’t want to.”
“I want to,” I tell her, pulling into the lot of the restaurant, “so damn bad. Here. At your house. Hell on the fucking hood of my truck.”
“Mm,” she mumbles, “I like the sound of that.”
“You up for a bit of risky sex, baby,” I say in a low voice, the idea taking off inside my head, her bent over the hood, me tugging that dress up to her waist, pulling her panties to the side and burying myself so deep inside her she’ll be seeing stars.
“I’ve never had sex anywhere other than a bed,” she laughs but then abruptly stops when she catches my expression.
“I’m going to remedy that,” I promise, tugging her across and planting my lips on hers like I’m starved. I guess I am, it has been days since I tasted her and if I went another second more I was sure to explode. My tongue traces the seam of her lips, requesting entry and she obliges, opening up for me. Our tongues dual, the kiss becoming more heated with every swipe of our tongues. She squirms in her seat, twisting her body fully towards mine as my hand skirts up the inside of her thigh, my fingers touching the lace of her panties, feeling the wetness seeping through the material. I groan into her mouth, fighting every single urge that has me wanting to grab her and sit her in my lap.
“If we don’t stop,” I say reluctantly, “We’re never going to get inside.”
“I’m no longer hungry,” she whimpers, head falling back as my mouth trails down her throat.
“We’re going to eat,” I tell her, “Then for dessert, I’m going to have you.”
“Fletch,” she grips my wrists, holding my hands where they are on each side of her face.
I pull away reluctantly and press my forehead to hers, grinning at how heavy she is breathing, at just how into it she was getting.
“Let’s go, our reservation is in five.”
With a heavy sigh, she climbs from the car and meets me at the hood, accepting my offered hand. Our fingers link together and she leans into me.
Fletcher( Boys of HGU #1) Page 15